An Open Letter To All Those Monkeys Jumping On The Bed

Dear jumping monkeys,

Please stop! All those monkeys jumping on the bed need to stop! They are giving Owen ideas and mommy’s heart can’t take it. He is four and has severe autism. He isn’t any happier than the monkeys when I tell him he can’t jump on the bed.

Owen’s bed is about three feet off the ground. I got it because it has an edge all the way around it, he can’t fall out. But he can certainly jump from the edge to the ground. This is not what I anticipated. Why did I not anticipate this. Why did I not realize boys like scaring their mothers half to death so that they can make their lives more interesting.

He had a brilliant day, only to come home and be on the edge of meltdown central all night. Everything made him on high alert, everything made him mad, and everything made him want to jump in his bed. This is where I cringe. He can’t jump on the bed. He can’t jump off the bed. Telling him this sends him into fits. When I would calm him down from one meltdown the next one would start and the jumping would happen all over again.

He’s four. I can still hold him. Imagine the bigger he gets, communication is huge, I must find a way to connect these dots. I know that the more I correct him the more he wants to prove that he can do something. He screams, bites, kicks, hits, pulls my hair through all of these moments, and then he runs back to his jumping palace. He has a trampoline, but the big bed is so much more fun to jump in. Monkey, oh monkey please stop making these suggestions of jumping.

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